The Kid Thing
by BeTheChangeYouSee
Summary: Darcy'd never thought about kids. At least, not in any concrete, 'I want three and their names will be this' kind of way. Abstractly, the idea of having children appealed to her, like sometime into the very distant future when she wasn't dealing with alien invasions and killer robot overlords.


This has taken me a week to write. You don't need to read Of Man and Machine to know what's happening, but you defs should. Esp if you're confused about what Bucky's issue is. Enjoy!

* * *

Darcy'd never thought about kids. At least, not in any concrete, 'I want three and their names will be this' kind of way. Abstractly, the idea of having children appealed to her, like _sometime_ into the _very distant future_ when she wasn't dealing with _alien invasions_ and _killer robot overlords_.

Besides, did she even like kids? It wasn't like she liked kids when she _was_ a kid, much to her father's constant frustration, so did she really like them that much more as an adult? An adult that would be responsible for the feeding and the cleaning and the other assorted tasks that went towards keeping a small human alive? She was barely capable of doing those things for herself!

And so, at breakfast one morning when Steve and Sam were recounting the latest Avenger mission to a bemused Sharon Carter, Darcy was struck dumb when Sam nudged her and announced, "That'll be a story to tell the kids, hey Darce?"

Luckily, it seemed to be one of those _rhetorical_ life-changing questions he didn't need an answer for because he just kept on chatting with Steve and Sharon without sparing her a glance. There was no way she was capable of answering at that point. Her jaw had to be on the _floor_ she was so blindsided.

The others did not appear to notice either. Only Tony, over by the coffee machine and eyeing her with raised eyebrows, and Bucky, who was always watching her these days like the overprotective loser he was, seemed to realise her internal freak out. Clint just wolfed down his scrambled eggs, oblivious to the world, and Thor seemed to be similarly inclined.

Darcy shut her mouth and rearranged her face into a somewhat blank mask, which was better than the goldfish impression she'd been doing. It wasn't like she could say anything about the kid comment, not while everyone else was there.

So she tried to ignore it and pretend it hadn't been said, although she was completely unsuccessful in that endeavour because she spent the rest of her morning with a dry mouth and a buzzing in her ears.

It wasn't particularly conducive to making sure Tony failed in blowing up the labs. Tony found it hilarious.

"God, your face was just–" Tony didn't seem to have the words for what her face was just like. He was too busy trying to stop laughing which was particularly hazardous as he was using a – unlit – blowtorch. "Wilson is a fucking genius!"

"Nice to see you're amused," she retorted, taking the blowtorch away and setting it on the workbench. She levelled an unimpressed stare at him. "I would prefer it if you focused your energies in not burning down the labs, please."

Tony scoffed.

"Live a little, Lewis." Abruptly, a smirk split his face. "Or should I say, _Mrs Wilson_."

"Fuck off."

He went on like that for a little bit, but became bored quickly with her apathy. But he didn't seem done with the topic, even as he perched himself on the far end of the lab from her. As he fiddled absentmindedly with a screw driver and the Mark LVI's boot jets, Darcy could almost feel his questioning gaze on her.

She sighed, setting aside the paperwork she'd been working on for hours with no progress.

"Whatever you want to say, Tony, just say it and get it over with," she said sternly.

He gawked for a moment, then asked, "Has Wilson even spoken to you about kids?"

"No," she admitted. She wrapped her arms across her chest, hugging herself tightly. "It's never come up before."

"Huh," he muttered, rubbing his jaw pensively. "That's so weird. You guys always seem like you have your shit together, Steve and I are _constantly_ jealous."

Darcy couldn't help it; she laughed.

"Seriously? You and Steve are perfect, like, obnoxiously so. I feel like I have to have a cold shower every time I'm in the same room as you guys."

Tony chortled. The crow's feet around his eyes deepened, and Darcy was struck by how happy he looked in that moment, how truly _Tony_ he looked. After all the shit with the Accords and Ross being a general asshole, he hadn't smiled like that in a long time, too tired and too busy to be honestly happy. Darcy had been seriously worried about how much of a toll the stress had taken on his heart and emotional state, and there were a few moments there when she'd considered giving him a sedative just so he would rest. Seeing his smile, she was just glad that the worst of it seemed over and done with, and that he was finally content.

"I should hope so, Lewis, the sex is spectacular," he told her. The smile widened into a lopsided grin at her distinctly repulsed face. He cleared his throat. "But not what I was getting at. You two always seem to just _know_ what the other wants. You always have it _sorted_. You're both always talking about your feelings and everything, so it's just weird, is all, that you haven't spoken about this."

Darcy considered him. Tilting her head, she said, "I mean … yeah, I 'spose. Yeah. But I mean, we're not perfect. Contrary to what's otherwise indicated, we don't share a hivemind. I don't know what he's thinking about this; if he's even thinking about it at all, because for all I know, he's not thought about it and I'm just overreacting. I mean, it was just a comment and he didn't seem fussed when I didn't respond. But maybe he was just pretending not to be fussed and he felt really hurt. What if he feels hurt? Oh my God, I am an idiot."

Tony sat there, blinking. Soundly realising how dumb she sounded, Darcy bit her lip.

"You don't think I'm overreacting with this, do you?" she asked. Tony's eyebrows had almost disappeared into his hairline. Darcy sighed, suddenly feeling awkward, and checked her phone for the time. "Gotta go, have to meet Sam for coffee."

"Look," said Tony, placing a comforting hand on her forearm, "I obviously think you're crazy, but I think you need to talk about this with Sam. It's bothering you, and if you talk it out, you'll find out what he meant and the not-crazy Darcy will return to me with decent coffee."

"Leaving aside your mockery and self-centred narcissism, I am genuinely fearful," she teased, a warm feeling in her chest. "Who are you and what have you done with Tony? That was a reasonable, _adult_ suggestion."

He shrugged. "I try. Steve's a good conscience."

Darcy rolled her eyes. Then she got up, made her way over to Tony and planted a kiss in his wild hair before striding out of the lab, leaving a pink-faced Tony behind.

"You just keep telling yourself that," she called over her shoulder. "I'm onto you!"

"Triple venti, half sweet, non-fat, caramel macchiato for Sam!"

Sam bounced over to the counter and retrieved his drink from the frazzled barista with a grin and a thank you. He wandered back over to the table where Darcy and her cappuccino were seated, watching him with undisguised disdain.

"What? I enjoy life's simple pleasures," he said, inclining his drink to her.

She snorted, "There is nothing simple about that monstrosity."

"Ha!" barked Sam. "At least I don't come into Starbucks and order a _cappuccino_."

Her brows furrowed. "What's wrong with cappuccinos? Not enough sugary death for your liking?"

"That's a bit hypocritical," he said. He waggled his eyebrows at her, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You were the one with the unicorn frap last week."

She gasped, eyes wide.

"Don't you dare go there! You promised me!"

Sam slid out of his chair, throwing a grin over his shoulder as he exited the store. After a second's hesitation, Darcy got up too, chasing after him through the group of impatient businessmen who'd just entered the store. Ignoring their disgruntled muttering, she pushed them aside.

"Saaaaaaaaaam! Don't you run away from me, you gigantic meme!"

He'd only gotten a few shops down in the direction of the Tower by the time she muscled her way through, so it was only a matter of pushing through the oblivious, irate and hungry New Yorkers bustling about everywhere to reach him. Cappuccino held aloft, she dashed to Sam's side and tugged at his arm, jerking him to a halt. He only smirked down at her as she caught her breath, the little shit.

"Saaaaaam, you asshole!" she panted. "You dick, I almost dropped my coffee."

He just laughed.

Darcy tucked her arm into his and started leading him towards the Tower. For all that Tony was pretty lax on returning early from lunch, she wasn't of the habit of leaving him for too long when he was in the lab. He didn't need babysitting, per se, but it was certainly easier to control the possible damage when she was physically present. She and Sam had gotten used to finishing off their coffees in the lab together in her office while Tony fiddled with something in the main lab.

The walk to the Tower was quiet, but not awkward. Companionable, her dad would say, fucking nerd that he was. Or it was companionable, until she started thinking about breakfast and "That'll be a story to tell the kids, hey Darce?"

 _Urgh_.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Sam broke in. He shifted their arms slightly, reaching for her free hand and lacing their fingers together. With a soft smile, he said, "You're not usually this quiet."

Biting her lip and suddenly feeling very nervous, Darcy stared straight ahead and thought about what to say. She didn't just want to blurt something out like some sort of cock-eyed ditz. It had to be eased into, phrased–

"Is it about the kid thing this morning?" Sam asked. He was watching her intently, so when she turned to him with her mouth slightly ajar, he just smiled softly and replied to her unspoken question, "You're not exactly quiet, even before coffee, and Barnes looked like he was going to kill me, so."

"That man," she said, blushing, "needs to back off."

Sam laughed.

"He's just looking out for you," he said softly.

She just shook her head, a slight smile playing on her face. They went quiet as they came up to the traffic lights opposite the Tower and waited for the walk light. Darcy was relieved; it gave her a few moments to catch up mentally.

Sam didn't say anything until they were in the private Tower elevator. Crossing in front of her, he clicked off the number to Tony's labs and highlighted their floor number. Noticing her questioning look, he shrugged.

"I didn't think you'd want an audience for this," he said. "We need to talk, obviously."

"Right," she agreed faintly.

He observed her for a moment, a crease between his eyebrows, and then got out his phone. He tapped out something and slipped it back into his pocket. The urge to ask him who he was talking to dissipated when the elevator reached their floor with a soft chime, and they made it into their apartment without further interruption.

Through hanging up their jackets on the coat rack, that quiet remained between them. It had become uncomfortable, an itch that built and built in her chest, by the time Sam had shuffled into the kitchen and fixed up the kettle. The urge to reach out grew, as she watched him humming about the kitchen with her faded smiley face mugs and the teabags he insisted they stock; to reach out and just hold him close. Tony was right in that regard – she and Sam were always in one another's orbit.

So she gave in. Colliding with him bodily, Sam let out an "Oomph!" as she attached like a supersoldier-limpet. Automatically, his arms encircled her, mindful of setting the cups on the counter. His chest shook, and he grinned down at her.

"Hello there," he laughed.

Impassively, she replied, "Hello."

"I'm making tea," he said, nodding to the cups.

A smirk twitched at her lips but she concealed it quickly. "I can see that. Right after the coffee?"

He rolled his eyes.

"You're such a nerd. Besides, coffee isn't for being calm," he told her. He pressed a quick kiss to her hair before extracting himself from her arms to fix up the tea. "Come on, tea and chats."

Collecting her mug from him, Darcy groaned. With her face pressed into her mug, she let herself be led into their room and be deposited at the head of the bed. She leant back upon the abundance of pillows and cupped her mug to her chest. Careful of jostling her too much and spilling the tea, Sam curled into her side.

"Ok," he said. He straightened up a little bit. "Look, I just wanna say, I didn't mean to freak you out."

"I know," she reassured him. "I do, really. I'm overreacting, I know, and you're too sweet to say it."

"Maybe a little bit," he agreed. His eyes softened. "But I'm glad. I didn't realise that the idea of kids freaked you out so much."

She pursed her lips. "It's not so much that it freaks me out," she said slowly, "it's just that I never considered it before. I didn't exactly have an orthodox childhood of dolls and dresses where I planned out my dream house with my billionaire husband and our six children, and it's not like I've been in a relationship long enough to really consider it. You just … blindsided me, is all."

"Blindsided?" he repeated. "Darce, it was one comment. I hardly blindsided you."

"It's not just one comment, though, is it? You weren't just saying you want my babies, Sam, you were saying you could see us, in the future, telling our kids our battle stories. You were saying that you've thought about it, about us, and our future together."

Pulling away from her, he sat up.

"And you've never thought about our future together?" he wondered. "We've been together a year and you're just now telling me you don't see a future with me?"

A flash of annoyance drove through her. "That's not what I said," she denied, shaking her head sharply. "That's not what I said _at all_."

"That's what it sounds like," he retorted.

"Well it's not. You're putting words in my mouth."

He huffed. "I'm not putting words in your mouth! You literally _just_ said that I freaked you out by having the _audacity_ to think about our fut–"

"Hold up, ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-no, _no_ ," she said, "I didn't say anything about having the audacity to think about our future. I just said that you surprised me that you thought about it!"

"How is it surprising?" he scowled. "We've been together over a year."

"Yeah," she snapped. "Yeah, we have, and in that time you've said nothing about the great American dream with the white picket fence and two point-five kids! You've not even mentioned it, and the first time you mention it is in a throwaway comment to our co-workers? In front of my boss?!"

"What, so you're mad I didn't say anything? It was one comment, Darcy! It didn't mean anything, and if it wasn't for the fact that it's upset you so much, I would've already forgotten about it!"

That uncomfortable itch was back, crawling at her insides and threatening her eyes with tears. Arguing with Sam disagreed with her far more than any off Chinese takeout, that was for sure. Whenever they fought, that uneasy, upset feeling threatened to make her sick. It was enough for her to bless her lucky stars that they didn't fight anywhere near as much as Steve and Tony did.

"It meant something, Sam!" she choked out. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "It meant that you're thinking that one day, we'll settle down and have kids and leave all this super bullshit behind. That you want that kind of future with me. It means that you have an idea of what our future looks like.

"And I don't know if it's the same as mine."

Her voice cracked on that last word.

"Are you serious?" he croaked. The expression on his face reminded Darcy of the time Clint had socked him in the nose during practice. He turned away from her to set his mug on the bedside table, so when he spoke again, his face was turned from her. "You're making all these assumptions about _what I want_ for our future without _asking me_ what I want."

He exhaled sharply, then turned to her. A fire lit up his eyes, burning into her own and taking her breath away. Without a word, he set her mug aside before gripping her hands, holding them tight enough that a normal person would recoil but barely affecting her.

"I want you – no, I need you. I need you when you're grumpy and tired because Tony doesn't know how to use a watch without something exploding. I need you when you're covered in gore and freaking out over some HYDRA bullshit. I need you at your worst, and I will need you when we're old and grey. Children or no children, I will always need you.

"I don't need kids, Darce, but I want yours. Having a family with you would be amazing, but I'm not going to lose you over it. If you don't want kids, then we won't have kids," he murmured. He rested his forehead against hers and kissed away the tears running down her cheeks. "I know what it's like to lose the love of your life. It's painful and it's messy, and it makes you feel like you want to die. I'm not going to let it happen again. I'm not going to lose the person that I need over something like this."

Her face crumpled and her breath dissolved into sobs. Wrapping his arms around her, Sam nuzzled into her neck, and through her tears she could feel the dampness at her collar. It only made her tighten her grip on him, holding him as he cried while he did the same for her.

They sat like that on the bed for what felt like hours. When the sky outside their window had darkened enough for Darcy to notice, she pulled away reluctantly, wiping at the gummy skin around eyes. She exhaled softly with shaky lungs.

"I've gotta go check on Tony, it's gotten really late," she said. She moved to get up, but Sam gently held her in place. "Seriously, Sam, I was supposed to get back ages ago."

"Don't worry about it," he told her. "I texted Steve to go watch him, told him you were taking a stress-day. After the past few months, it wasn't like either of them are keen on arguing with me."

At that, she relaxed back into the pillows. He joined her a moment later. Toying with her hair, he regarded her with a gaze that melted her heart into a puddle of goop and left her as breathless as a virginal teenager.

With a gentle voice strained by the overwhelming warmth in her chest, she breathed, "God I love you."

"I love you too," he responded. The dimples in his cheeks deepened as his lips twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Even when you go crazy and think I'm going to demand you pop out a kid or two."

She snorted.

"Ok, ok, I get it," she said. A thought occurred to her then. "You never said how many kids you wanted."

"Seeing as you were freaking out at the idea of having kids at all, I thought it might be best not to mention it." At her reproachful look, he relented with a smile, saying, "Two. I'd like two kids. Not now though, I'm not dumb. Sometime. Maybe."

She tilted her head.

"And we'd be retired by then, so we wouldn't live in this Bermuda triangle of alien hell, and we'd either have an apartment near my mom's or we'd move out of the city but not too far out – my mom would be that stereotypical grandma all obsessed with her grandkids and spoiling them so we'd have to be close, and I'm pretty sure Barnes would wanna visit too. I draw the line at giving him a room though, it's bad enough he lives on our floor."

He laughed nervously. Darcy remained quiet, mouth pursed slightly as she thought it over.

"I'm not saying I want that," she said slowly, "but it sounds … nice."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. She caved.

"I'll think about it. In the future."

His answering smile was no less potent for all that it was small.

"That's all I ask."

* * *

I was really worried about Darcy and how she came across in this. I felt like she was really overreacting, but I suppose that adds depth to her character. Thanks to chicken-chips and my friend Sophie for checking this out and dealing with my 1 am ramblings.


End file.
